


How I found out

by umiwomitai



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, i don't know what this is i'm sorry, kind of, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 17:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umiwomitai/pseuds/umiwomitai
Summary: All through his life Hyojong had been many things to Yenan : his savior, his Korean improvised-teacher, his classmate, his older brother, his source of laughter and happiness, his safe place when homesickness was too much, his only and best friend.Hyojong wasn't sure what he was now, neither did he know what he wanted to be.





	How I found out

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for any mistake or weird sentences, I re-read but english still isn't my first language and it's my first time writing directly in another language. 
> 
> This is nothing like it should have been (i wanted fluff haha...) but it's okay I guess so I hope you'll enjoy it!

When he was 6 years old, he was considered as a hyperactive kid. That was the words adults used to qualify him, even when everyone knew it wasn't accurate. He was nowhere near hyperactive. But he was annoying, troublesome, reckless.

  
At home, he was usually a nice kid, staying in his room to play with toys, or laying around the living room while his mother was cleaning and cooking. He was never bothering anyone and could perfectly take care of himself on his own. However, sometimes, he would notice a very appealing cookie jar on top of a shelf, or an odd box in a closet, and would immediately want to know. He sure was a curious child, and definitely mischievous enough to make you smile, or frustrated.

  
That was why at school, he was often grounded. Adults could very well notice the lies in his words, the malicious tone of his voice, and the way the corner of his eyes would crinkle when he was bluntly telling jokes and playing around. Kids couldn't. Some of them didn't mind the jokes. Some others burst into tears, crying Hyojong was being mean. The rest got angry at him, cried, called him a liar, and just like any other kid, Hyojong could only defend himself, calling them dumb. It would end in a mess of cries, tears, snot, and pouty children, as well as a scolding teacher and disappointed parents.

  
It didn't matter how many times his mother had said he was a very well-behaved child and she didn't understand why he was like this around other children, his friends had put him aside. Most of the time, he didn't mind. He liked staying in his own little bubble. But other times, it would just feel lonely. When his mom was busy with work and the academy, when his dad wasn't coming back home before he went to bed because he was working late, his loneliness was weighting on him a little too much for his frail shoulders to bear.

  
So, some days, he would go talk to the other kids, tell some jokes and laugh loud and smile his big smile and act cute like he knew he was, and they would forget there had been a problem at all.

  
That day was such a day. He was playing nicely with the other kids during lunch break. It was sunny yet the wind was strong enough to keep them from playing outside. The teacher had let them stay in the classroom. This girl was trying to reach for his toys when he started getting annoyed. He had decided to play a trick on her. Nothing mean, it never was. Nonetheless, it made her cry.

  
So, when the new kid entered the classroom timidly, hiding behind the teacher's legs, he didn't get to see him. He was grounded in a corner of the room, alone, his back turned from the rest of the students. He had to stay like this for an hour, before the teacher let him go back to his seat. After that, though, he wasn't feeling curious about the new kid anymore, and decided he wasn't worth his time.

  
After all, he wasn't speaking. It couldn't be funny.

  
The day after, when his mother dropped him off, he noticed a bunch of kids in a corner of the playground, so he waved goodbye and rushed there to see what was happening. In the middle of the round they had formed, stood the little new kid, blushing, tears on the corner of his eyes.

  
"Why don't you talk?"

  
"Why wasn't your mom with you when you arrived?"

  
"Is it true that you are not Korean?"

 

"You never answer. You're weird. It's not funny."

  
Though he knew he had had the same thoughts about the kid the day before, Hyojong started feeling genuinely sorry for this boy. He looked at him, trying to find his eyes. His head was low. Just when he saw tears falling on the ground, he regretted his thoughts.

  
"If he's not funny, why don't you all go play somewhere else?" he bluntly said to the other kids.

  
"Hyojong, why are like this? We're just talking to him."

  
"He's not saying anything. You are all boring like him anyway."

  
"Hey!"

  
One of the boys was starting to get angry, and the girls were upset about his attitude. But they left nonetheless, leaving Hyojong and the new kid on their own. He put his hands in his pocket and took out a tissue.

  
"Here. It's no used, promise."

  
The kid looked at him and reached out his hand hesitatingly. He nodded, as to tell him it was okay. The boy finally took it and wiped his eyes. With a shaky voice, he finally said a word:

  
"Thank you.", though not without a heavy accent.

  
"Oh." Said Hyojong, eyebrows raised. "You're not from here."

  
"I'm… I'm Chinese."

  
"That's really far. Are you going to stay here for a long time?"

  
"I… I don't know."

  
Hyojong looked at him with wide eyes, and a smile just as wide. He now understood why the kid was talking: he didn't know Korean. The others probably didn't know how to deal with a stranger. Their city wasn't very touristic, so foreigners that would come here often knew the language. They were only kids, after all, how could they understand that 'one of them' couldn't understand the same words they had been hearing all their lives?

  
He reached for his hand and took it.

  
"I will help you if you want. My mom speaks your language. Come home after school to talk with her. We can play games, alright? Games. Ga-mes. You know?"

  
"Yes. Thank you. I… I am Yenan."

  
"Don't worry. I'm Hyojong. Kim Hyojong. The others don't like me that much either."

  
The kid tilted his head a little. He clearly wasn't understanding a word. Hyojong figured after a few days that it didn't really matter, because Yenan was letting him speak all the time anyway. His mother had told him it was his way of getting used to the language. He was glad he could help his friend.

 

* * *

 

 

When he got 8 years old, he celebrated with his parents, and Yenan. He had agreed to come over for the weekend after Hyojong had asked for hours and hours. He was happy he was here with them. Yenan was too.

  
They had grown up a little, especially Hyojong, who was now a little taller than his friend. He was very proud of this little difference and took it as an advantage to say he was older than Yenan and was supposed to protect him. Yenan just thought he was very cool.

  
At school, not much had changed. Yenan was still not talking with the others, always glued to his only friend. However, his spoken Korean had gotten much better and he now managed to get very good grades and answer the teacher's questions without asking her to repeat it more slowly.

  
Hyojong was still undisciplined. He would sometimes fight with other kids, even the older ones, and make kids cry after pulling their hair and throwing away their toys. His mother was starting to get worried about it, but when she saw how nice and thoughtful he was with Yenan, she was wondering about the other kids' behaviour. Especially since his grades were good enough. He wasn't a brilliant kid, but he was good and understood what needed to be.

  
One day, late at night, she decided to talk about it with her husband. They were sitting in the living room, with the radio on, and a few candles on. They were discussing Hyojong's situation when a little noise made them turn their head. Here, in the middle of the living room, was standing their son, hair a mess, eyes tired, still in his pyjamas, but no smile on his face.

  
"Hyojong, sweetie, why are you up?"

  
"I wanted to pee, and then I heard you…"

  
"Come here, sweetie," said his dad with an inviting motion towards the couch.

  
The child walked there and sat between them, his head hanging low.

  
"Do you believe what the teacher says?"

  
"No, sweetie. We know you're a good kid. You've always been. But we need to know why you are like this with your classmates. Are they mean to you?"

  
"No... Sometimes they say I'm a weirdo, but I don't mind."

  
His parents looked at each other. " _weirdo_ " was resonating in their heads, hitting like a hammer. They had always known Hyojong was a little different from the others, so curious, talkative yet always in his own world. He was hard to understand. Their biggest fear was that he would get rejected for his uniqueness. Maybe… Just, maybe, that was what was happening?

  
"Then what, sweetheart?" asked softly his mother, pushing his hair back with a soft hand.

  
"They still bully Yenan. When he doesn't understand a word, or when we talk in Chinese just the two of us. They're mean with him. And he is my friend. So, I have to protect him, right, dad? That's what you always say. I must protect the ones I love."

  
Deep in their hearts, something warmed them up at the same time as another thing broke in silence. This child was kind, was pure, but maybe… just maybe, a little too much for his own sake.

  
"Yes, my son. That's right. But try to be smarter than them, ok? You wouldn't want them to fight with Yenan, right?"

  
"No! He can't defend himself!"

  
"Then, be kind. Be smart. Make it so they never find a good reason to pick at him, ok?"

  
Hyojong seemed to think for some time, before looking up at his dad with big eyes, full of sparks, and that same big smile he liked seeing on their son.

  
"I think I know how."

  
"Good. Now go to sleep, it's late," nagged his mom, getting up to push him towards the stairs.

  
"Goodnight!"

  
After making sure he had come back in his room, she looked at her husband with a worried smile.

  
"Do you think he'll be okay?"

  
"He will."

 

* * *

 

 

When he was 12 years old, they were already in middle school. They had chosen the same one, but they weren't in the same class anymore. Yenan was scared, Hyojong was sad. They still managed to spend all their free time together.

  
Hyojong had started being a little more serious about his studies. He had realised that Yenan being the very good student he was, he was destined to get into a very good high school and after that, a very good university. He was pretty sure he didn't have such ambitions himself, but if he could at least _try_ and show Yenan he wanted to stay with him, then maybe, just _maybe_ , he wouldn't go back to China.

  
This was something Hyojong was thinking about a lot at night, or in class, when he was all alone. How he would feel without him, what he would if his only friend was to leave him for good.

  
He had gone back to China a few times already, for the holidays. Hyojong didn't mind, he had his mom and his dad and his parent's friends' children he could still play with. He knew, however, that the only time he had been gone for more than a week, he had missed him like crazy, just like he had missed his dad when he had gone on a business trip for a month in Europe.

  
He hadn't told him. He wasn't sure if he wanted him to know. Yenan would probably feel sad, or even guilty. So, he had decided he would just make the most of the time they spent together.

  
"Hyojong?"

  
"Hm?" he mumbled, his mouth full of food.

  
"My parents are going to come here for the next holidays."

  
"Oh. It's great."

  
"I was wondering if you'd like to go around with us? For tourism."

  
"Visit the surroundings? Yeah. Where though? There isn't much to visit around here."

  
"I don't know, they'll probably decide that. They told me I could bring of friend so I'm bringing you."

  
"Because you like me or because I'm your only friend?" Hyojong said in a laugh, big smirk on his mouth.

  
"Both, I guess." Yenan answered with a pensive voice, before looking at him with his soft smile.

 

* * *

 

 

When he was 15 years old, he had to accept that he would be separated from Yenan. He wasn't an idiot, but he had never really found any pleasure in studying, not the way his friend did. He had to face the truth: his grades were not enough.

  
On the day they had to give back their wish list for high schools, he ended up writing the average art school nearest to his home. At least, he wouldn't be too far from his parents and could go back home on the week-ends. Yenan, surprisingly enough, was to stay in Korea for the rest of his education. He was glad he wasn't going too far from him.

  
A few weeks later, they found out he had gotten accepted in every single one of his choices. They were sitting in Hyojong's living room, the paper on the coffee table before them. It was a little late, his mom was still in the kitchen making diner. The wind was strongly hitting the windows and outside they could hear the trees moving along with it.

  
Hyojong had put his feet on the edge of the couch, his legs against his chest, his eyes focused on the TV screen as if he wasn't fearing Yenan's decision. He knew it was for the best if he went to Seoul or Busan. He knew it would have been even better if he had chosen a foreign high school. He knew it all way too well, he had repeated it in his head again and again at night when he couldn't sleep. He should go. He still didn't want him too.

  
"Hyojong?"

  
"Hm?"

  
"Which one should I go to?"

  
"The best one. You've worked hard." Still, he couldn't let himself take it away from his friend. He really hard worked so hard to reach his goals, it would be unfair.

  
"I'm not sure I want to go to Seoul, though. It's far from here."

  
"You could still come back for holidays, if you want, Yenan," said Hyojong's mother when she entered the room with two big plates in her hands.

  
"I will! If Hyojong wants me to."

  
"Probably not, you're not that interesting."

  
They smiled at each other and laughed a little. They didn't mention their future for the rest of the evening, and Hyojong even avoided the question his dad asked when he finally got back home. They got ready to go to bed in silence. It was late, but they couldn't fall asleep. The storm was still going on outside, and inside Hyojong's head.

  
"Yenan? You're asleep?"

  
"No."

  
"Don't you want to go to Seoul?"

  
"I'm not sure. I don't want to leave you."

  
"I'd still come to protect you if you need me to."

  
"I know. But still. It's gonna be so different without you around."

  
The silence came back in the room, both of them lost in their own thoughts. After a few minutes, Hyojong shifted to look at Yenan the best he could in the dark.

  
"I'm sorry."

  
"Why?"

  
"I didn't want to leave you all alone."

  
"I will survive it, don't worry so much."

  
Yenan reached for his hand, and without any more words, they held each other's hand to sleep. None of them mentioned it the next day, nor the day after. They never did, yet it remained a sweet and lovely memory inside of them.

 

* * *

 

 

When he got 18, he didn't celebrate his birthday with his family. He had school all day, then practice, and only after a quick phone call with his mother, did he get to celebrate with just a few friends. Wooseok, one of his dancing class junior, Shinwon, a classmate, and HyunA, a member of the dance club. They were his only three friends here, and that was more than enough for him.

  
Sometimes, he would miss Yenan. During lunch, he missed his quiet smiles and the food he'd leave for him. When he was studying, he missed his encouraging words and explanations that would make everything so much clearer in his head. At night, he remembered that moment he had his hand in his, soft, warm, and a little too big for him.

  
It was winter when they had last seen each other. Yenan had come back for less than a week to spend Christmas with them. It was snowing heavily on their way back to the train station when it was finally time for him to leave. The car drive had been silent, not even the radio piercing through its thickness. At the train station, his dad had decided to wait in the car to let them say goodbye to each other in peace.

  
It had been weird. It had been sad. But only inside Hyojong's heart and head. Between them, it had been the same mindless words and airy smiles. Joking, picking at the other, laughing out loud, just like before. Just like the better times, as Hyojong would call it. Just before Yenan had stepped onto the train, he'd reached for his arm, gripping him as tight as he could to pull him against his chest.

  
"You're so tall. I hate you for that."

  
"I know. Your hair smells good."

  
"It's dog shampoo."

  
A laugh. The big one. The laugh that always was accompanied by his head being thrown back. His favourite. And after that, the door closing, the train leaving, and the buzz in his hears from the noise surrounding him. No traces of Yenan left, no special memory to hold onto, nothing.

  
He was left here, standing alone, watching the snow fall in big snowflakes, remembering how Yenan had found the Korean word for "snowflakes" so beautiful when he had taught him, and that same empty feeling he'd always feel when he wasn't near anymore.

  
Spending his birthday without him was weird. But it wasn't feeling as empty as before, with his friends filling up the holes he wanted so much to forget forever. Laying here against HyunA's side, his hand on Shinwon's neck, watching some dumb movie they had found randomly on Internet, it felt almost perfect. Almost like he could forget everything and be satisfied with what he had at this exact moment.

  
Almost.

 

* * *

 

 

When he was 21, life had changed so much looking back on his teenaged years felt like ages ago. Everything had moved so fast in such a short period of time, sometimes he would stop and wonder if it wasn't just all a dream he couldn't wake up from.

  
He had moved in with HyunA and Hwitaek, her boyfriend, to go to university as close as close could be to Yenan. He had been accepted in a good enough art school, thanks to his dancing and his mom telling him to keep working hard for things he was interested in. His future was still a blur, even after a year of university and his military service. But it wasn't scary anymore. It just seemed like a faraway goal that he could see though couldn't reach.

  
Yenan seemed just like this too. He was near, so much nearer that he had been for the past years, but it still felt like he couldn't reach him. Couldn't, anymore. It was ridiculous. How could he get away from him? He was his first friend, his dearest friend, almost like a little brother he wanted to protect and tease at the same time. How could Yenan ever find a way to replace him?

  
It was a shame, and he was still denying it, but this question indeed had an answer. Yenan had replaced him. In a way. In high school, he had found Hongseok, one of his classmate, a very smart kid who had been president of the class all along. He had met him once before, and a few times after that, and he had been quick on noticing that this guy had taken away the advantage Hyojong had with Yenan: he could speak Chinese.

  
Chinese had always been Hyojong's advantage. It was the sole reason they had spent so much time together back when they were friends. It always felt weird inside when he heard Yenan speaking Chinese with people that weren't him, his parents, or Hyojong's mom. It was like he was losing one of the thing that brought Yenan toward him.

  
In university, Yenan had then ended up befriending that tall Japanese guy called Yuto. He was nice, funny, and got along with him too. But it was even worse than with Hongseok, because he had something Hyojong could never bring his friend: he was a foreigner too. Hyojong had always been here for Yenan when feeling sad or homesick, or even out of it because he didn't know things most Korean people already knew. He has supported him through thick and thin, but he could never understand how it felt, when Yuto could, when Yuto did.

  
All in all, it felt like Yenan was slipping through his fingers while he could only watch him being himself in front of his eyes. He was happy, in a way, that he was finally opening up to the others, to the world. He was blooming so prettily, he didn't have it in him to feel resentful of it. He just wished he could still be a part of it, a part of his life, when it felt like he didn't have the right to anymore.

  
He could understand. He wasn't what Yenan's parents would have a called "a good influence" anymore. He had started smoking during his service, he never kept a boyfriend or girlfriend for more than a week and going out to party happened way too much for his friends' liking. They cared about him, they were worried and had all reasons to be. He was worried too, and probably, that was the reason behind all of this.

  
Maybe, if he acted like a total jerk, he could push Yenan away and blame himself for making him leave, rather than just standing there and watching him go, because he wasn't powerful enough to hold him back.

  
Maybe, he could live with that more easily.

  
Maybe, he just wanted him to look at him.

  
Maybe, he wanted him to fall in love. But that, he would never say.

 

* * *

 

 

Now he was 22 years old, Yenan was graduating in a few months, and he wanted to cry his eyes out at the idea of him going back to China. Now he was spending all his nights in the couch, watching dumb videos or porn on his computer, drinking a few bottles only, and looking like he was this close to break away.

  
Hwitaek was worried, HyunA even more, but they weren't saying anything. When their friends asked how Hyojong was doing, they said he was alright, just tired because of insomnia, and then changed topic. He always told them he was fine, but they knew, they had eyes and ears. They were just understanding enough to leave him the amount of time he needed to get himself back together.

  
Apparently, HyunA thought it was enough, judging by how she was now looking at him with strong eyes and fierce attitude.

  
"What?"

  
"It's been enough, Hyo. You have to get yourself together now."

  
"I'm fine." He answer with a voice he would have qualified himself as pitiful.

  
"No you're not! It's been weeks, Hyojong, and he's not even gone yet! How do you think you will be when he finally leaves, uh?"

  
"Don't say that!"

  
Hyojong turned his body to face her, eyes filled with anger and sadness hidden deep behind it.

  
"So, what? What are you gonna do to me? Hit me? I'm tired of watching you sit here and do nothing. That's not giving him reasons to stay."

  
"He's not gonna stay anyway."

  
"If you keep behaving like this, he sure will not."

  
She then got up, pulled on his hand to get him up as well, and held him strong in her arms. It felt good. It felt like he was being loved and accepted and cared about. It felt like what he wanted Yenan to give. Just not enough. Just not quite exactly it.

  
He held onto her tightly, hiding his face in her neck to keep himself grounded. He couldn't cry.

  
"What if he leaves anyway?"

  
"At least you will have tried. You can't… just stay here and wait until he's really gone, okay? You have to do something…"

  
"I'm… afraid."

  
He felt her laugh more than he heard her, her body slightly shaking between his arms. Suddenly it was feeling like such a big issue anymore. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should have laughed about it, like he always did about everything and especially his fears. Maybe why he was afraid wasn't the matter anymore, because his fear shouldn't stop him from still doing it.

  
"Since when do you let you fear stop you?"

  
"I almost did, uh?"

  
"Almost. Now go take a shower and call him for God's sake."

  
He pushed her away a little and smiled for her. It wasn't his usual perfectly dumb smile, but it was good enough. For now.

 

* * *

 

After a few hours, his first correct meal in days, and a clean outfit finally put on, he was now out and waiting for Yenan at the bus station. It was a warm day for October and he felt like waiting outside rather that at an overcrowded café. It was nice to feel the sunrays and the light wind on his skin.

  
They smiled at each other when he arrived and immediately headed towards this little café Yenan had been telling him about for weeks now. Everything seemed like before, and maybe things really hadn't changed at all, except for inside Hyojong's mind. It was even worse, being the only one seeing a meaning in moves and words and touches that were still nothing to Yenan.

  
Like how he could order his drink and food for him. Like how he would hold the door open for him without even looking. Like how he always expected him to be the funny one that never had any problems. Like how he still looked for him from far away while waiting for their order or when he went to the restroom.

  
All those things that were part of their habits, as friends, as almost-brothers, as two people that had known each other for so long. They were things they had never mentioned, nor even thought about, because they had come so naturally there was no need to question anything. But now Hyojong was questioning every single one, finding hidden meanings, unsaid words, forbidden smiles and silent laughs.

  
He was seeing how they meant so much, how they expressed each and every one of their feelings for each other, though he wasn't sure how to interpret them. He had never been really good at this anyway. So maybe asking was really the only way to find out.

  
Or at least, the most efficient one.

  
"Yenan?"

  
"Yes?" he answered through a mouthful of cheesecake.

  
"Will you go back to China after you graduate?"

  
He watched him swallow his bite and look at him with these big doe eyes that reminded him so much of the little he had saved from mindless taunts one day in primary school. He smiles a little to put him at ease even when he was far from feeling comfortable himself. He was playing with his straw, making the ice move around at the bottom of his glass. His nervousness was showing.

  
"My parents want me to."

  
"I didn't ask about your parents though."

  
"I know. I'm just…torn. It's not that I don't want to go back, but I don't really want to leave, you know?"

  
"I think I know, yeah. What will you do, then?"

  
"Maybe… Maybe I'll find a way to convince them that I need to stay a little more until… yeah."

  
"Until what?" Hyojong says as he picks up his head and looks at him with curious eyes. Yenan is blushing.

  
"Well… I thought that… I could wait until you graduate. Maybe. I don't know."

  
"Why?" he asked, his voice struggling to remain neutral.

  
"Haha…I just… Maybe we…I don't know I thought that… it was possible that maybe, you could want to, only if you want of course… maybe move in with me? But yeah, only if you want. Like, nothing big, it was just an idea I got and-"

  
"Yeah."

  
"Yeah?"

  
"Oh my god Yenan!" he finally exclaimed, his big dumb laugh following immediately. "You're the one making a big deal out of it. Calm down. And yeah of course, I'd love that."

  
"Wow, really. Well. I wasn't actually expecting you to say yes, to be very honest."

  
"Why would I say no?"

  
"You already live with HyunA and Hui and I'm not… like… your boyfriend or anything. Maybe it would be weird. If you want to meet with people and stuff, you know."

  
"Would you want to be?"

  
He hadn't planned anything about this conversation, because it wasn't the way he handled things, and because he had learned over time that nothing ever goes as planned. Yet, he was pretty sure now that this shouldn't have been said at all. What was he thinking?

  
Yenan's face was now beet red, and his stuttering had gotten worse, mixing between Korean and Chinese and sounds that were probably not even forming words. He was starting to get embarrassed too when a customer side-eyed them as she passed their table. Something had to be said or done to save the situation.

  
"Your what?" Yenan finally managed to croak out without sounding too panicked. Though he clearly was.

  
"Boyfriend. Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you out like this. I'm not sure what I meant actually. But I think I want you to, you know, be my boyfriend."

  
"For real?"

  
"Oh no of course, only as a joke to give your parents a heart attack," he replicated immediately, eyebrows raised, and sneaky look plastered on his face.

  
Yenan hit him softly on the arm, hiding his blushing face as much as he could with his other hand. The situation was new, yet their behaviour was exactly like usual. It wasn't feeling as foreign as they thought.

  
"I'd like to. Be your boyfriend. Only if you become mine."

  
"I hadn't thought about it that way, but ok, I guess I'm fine with it too."

 

* * *

 

It had been weird, the first few seconds, the first few minutes, and every first time they had together after that. It felt so odd to do familiar things with a familiar person in such an unfamiliar way. That was how they worked out together. It wasn't easy, it wasn't always happy, but it was what they wanted. And looking back, Hyojong still didn't why he had stepped up for that kid when he knew no one would have done the same for him. Nonetheless, holding Yenan's hand in his in the plane to China, he was glad he had.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry for this ending i'm ashamed of myself. i'm on Tumblr (umi-wo-mitai) if you want to yell at me for this disaster.


End file.
